


A Batch Made in Heaven

by thegrayness



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Alternate Universe, David and Patrick Are Cookies, Happy Ending, LITERALLY, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:53:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21523999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegrayness/pseuds/thegrayness
Summary: Patrick and David are cookies and they fall in love. Let’s see how!I wish there was more to say about it but there isn’t.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 42
Kudos: 74





	A Batch Made in Heaven

**Author's Note:**

> Erm. I’m sorry about all of this lol. Please remember, whilst reading, that time is a scam and the cookie shelf life is longer than you think. 
> 
> ALL of the good ideas in this fic are from this_is_not_nothing. 
> 
> The title I got when I searched cookie puns and yeah I know spoiler: they’re not from the same batch but just GO WITH IT.

Patrick settled behind his label, a short, succinct ‘ _ shortbread,’  _ in nice-but-average script, sighing at the rest of his group. He couldn’t see too much of himself, but the rest of them were—boring. He liked to think he brought a little something extra to the table, but he had no way of knowing. The glass case he spent time in wasn’t very reflective. 

He glanced down the line of other cookie trays, all affixed with similar labels—chocolate chip, they always seemed to be having a good time, constantly selected by people who walked into the room with a pep in their step to stare down at them; macarons, wild and free and colorful, but melancholy when they were the ones selected (Patrick didn’t quite understand that, he thought that was the goal?); snickerdoodles, fun and happy and sweet and—Patrick ached to be like them, to be…  _ more _ . 

Down the other direction, a few trays away, in the next case over, was a selection of black and white cookies. Patrick spent a lot of time admiring them. One of them. He was fun, and smart, and posh, and glamorous. His icing was shiny, with a clean line down the middle, and the back of him was—well. Round and soft. Not that Patrick had looked! 

His name was David and Patrick loved him.

Okay, so technically they’d never met. But they  _ did _ lock glazes one time, Patrick thought, so it was just a matter of time before the excitable man who arranges them realizes and puts their trays closer together. He’s seen it happen! That’s how his friend Ben (shortbread) met Lucy (a beautiful Italian rainbow cookie). They’d stared at each other across the  _ room _ , because Lucy was in the glass case on the other side. And one day, when he was cleaning out Patrick and Ben’s case, the man put their tray next to Lucy’s in the other one. 

Patrick had no idea if it was on purpose. It was  _ evidence  _ at least. It gave Patrick hope that fun and beautiful cookies could find something to love about plain shortbread cookies.

Patrick’s time to impress came…. some time later. Patrick didn’t count lights-on like some cookies, so he really wasn’t sure how long he’d been thinking about David, about meeting David, about hopefully sharing a box with David if they were selected together (Ben and Lucy had been selected together recently, which gave Patrick hope). 

One day, when the lights came on, the lights in David’s case  _ didn’t.  _

Patrick panicked, he thought maybe the whole tray was gone! But then the man who arranges them came over, carrying David’s tray, nudged Patricks tray over, and slid it right next to Patrick’s. “Door open or closed?” The man asked, as if any of them could answer at all. Then he chuckled to himself and slid the door closed. 

Patrick was  _ not _ prepared. David smelled  _ delicious _ , and he was more beautiful up close than Patrick could have ever imagined. 

He looked at Ted, an iced sugar cookie inexplicably shaped like a dog, in the tray on the other side of him. Ted seemed thrilled. He turned his attention to David, then to Patrick, then back to David excitedly. Patrick shared the sentiment but also—terror. What was he going to say? To  _ David _ ? 

He was still thinking about it when it happened. David  _ spoke _ to him.

_ “You have a nice case. It’s not as bad as I thought it was going to be.” _

Patrick stared at him. Should he say thank you? It wasn’t  _ his  _ case, exactly. 

_ “Company leaves something to be desired, though,”  _ David continued, but the sound had a playful lilt to it, and Patrick felt himself get warm. Maybe it was the lights. 

_ “I’m Patrick.”  _ Introduce yourself. His mom had always told him that. 

David sent off a bit of delighted, nervous energy.  _ “David.” _

_ “I know.”  _ Patrick regretted the admission immediately, but David seemed even more delighted than before, and it made Patrick feel warmer all over his shortbread self. 

_ “You have a nice stamp on you.”  _ David was emitting straight-up happy vibes now, and Patrick guessed he was doing the same. He’d never seen his own stamp, just other cookies’—a fleur de lis, a swirly lace pattern, a maple leaf. He wondered what his was. Before he could ask, the man, who had only  _ just  _ brought them together, was pulling David’s tray back out of the case.

_ “Wait—”  _ Patrick heard David loud and clear, and he tried to knock himself onto his side to get the man’s attention. Couldn’t he see? David should be next to Patrick! He couldn’t do anything about it, though. He watched David get carried away, felt David looking back at him, and started to think maybe it wasn’t meant to be after all. 

*

Patrick didn’t know how much time had passed since he and David had met. He tried to count the lights-on, but lost track pretty quickly. He could still see David, sometimes, when one or two of the trays between them got moved, and Patrick was always pleased to feel David looking back at him, too. He was sad, obviously. But pleased. Maybe it would just have to be like this. And eventually they’d get selected separately—Patrick hoped that he got picked first… he didn’t think he could handle being in the room without David nearby

The lights went on, like they always did, and Patrick immediately sought out David. Patrick nearly slid out of his line of cookies.  _ The lights in David’s case were out again! _

Patrick looked over at Ted, who seemed excited as well, and Patrick waited and watched and waited and watched until the man came over to pick up David’s tray. He nudged Patrick’s tray over, and slid David’s in next to him. 

_ “David!”  _ Patrick was overjoyed.  _ “Hi.”  _ He should have been  _ practicing  _ what to say the next time he met David, but truth be told he didn’t think it would ever happen.

_ “Hey.”  _ It was soft, and warm, and if Patrick could wrap himself up in that one word from David he might be able to live if the man came to move David’s tray back.  _ “I’m glad you’re still here.” _

Patrick listened, enraptured, as David explained that he and his friend Stevie had been trying to break the light in their case again, so that maybe the man would bring David’s tray back near Patrick’s. He was elated, and briefly wondered how they actually managed to break the light again. After all, they were all cookies.

_ “Stevie’s a snickerdoodle, right?” _ Patrick didn’t  _ want _ to ask, but he kind of has to know if he has any shot here. Maybe David really came over here for Ted. He was shaped like a dog, maybe David liked dogs. Patrick doubted it, though. Hopefully.

_ “That makes sense, you seem like you’d get along with a snickerdoodle. They are fun and sweet. Not like—like a shortbread.” _

David stared at him.  _ “Stevie is  _ not _ fun and sweet.”  _

_ “She’s a snickerdoodle though?” _ Patrick didn’t follow.

_ “It’s just cinnamon and sugar. You could dunk yourself in cinnamon and sugar if you wanted, it wouldn’t change who you are.” _

Patrick didn’t know how to respond. 

_ “Anyway,”  _ David sounded like he was settling in.  _ “I think we broke the light permanently, so I might be here a while.” _

_ “Yeah?” _ Patrick asked. David didn’t reply, but Patrick felt waves of happiness roll of him, and he basked in them for a long time. 

*

As it happens, David was next to Patrick’s tray for a while, and it was magical. They spent every day together, getting to know one another, and on a few memorable occasions, they were able to  _ share a tray _ when the man who arranged them put them together for a bit while he cleaned. Patrick was happier than the thought he’d ever been, would ever be, and he was starting to think he’d feel this way… forever. 

One day, someone came in and the man plucked Patrick right off his tray and dumped him unceremoniously into a box. It was dim and awful and disorienting, and he could hear David faintly from within the glass case. An eternity passed, and other cookies were dropped around Patrick, and he hoped and hoped and hoped that David was next. The man wouldn’t let someone take Patrick and not David, right?

David toppled in, complaining the whole time. Patrick was so relieved, and their sides were  _ touching _ , and it was all going to be okay, because they were together.

*

They eventually found themselves on a colorful plate in a room with a lot of furniture, surrounded by colorful lights that David mentioned crossed the line into too much, but that Patrick was enjoying the hell out of. He was next to David, and that’s really all he cared about. He could tell it was dark outside, so he was pleased with their interior lighting. The other cookies on the plate didn’t have much to offer, but it’s not like Patrick had much attention span for anything else, anyway, when he had David so close. 

Some time passed, and a faint jingling noise cut into his conversation with David about preferring to be on their fronts or backs. They fell quiet, and the noise came again, accompanied by a loud clatter somewhere above them. It was rather disconcerting, but there wasn’t much they could do about it, except send each other calming energy. The clattering got louder, and so did the jingling, and it sounded kind of like the noise that the door to their old room made every time someone walked in. 

The jingling grew steadily louder, and soon a person, Patrick thought at least, was approaching the table their plate was on. It wasn’t any kind of person Patrick had seen before—and David certainly had a lot of thoughts about the ‘ _ explosion of red velvet’ _ involved in the person’s attire. Patrick didn’t know what velvet was but David’s tone didn’t make it sound like anything good. The white details reminded Patrick of part of David’s icing, though. He probably wouldn’t be sharing that thought with his—with David. 

The man’s face was obscured by a white cloud, which Patrick found odd, as he stared down at them. “A star for the tree!” The man exclaimed, poking at Patrick’s front. The man must be talking about Patrick’s stamp, because Patrick wasn’t shaped like a star. He was perfectly square, thank you. “Hey, Buddy, these cookies look almost too good to eat,” the man called over his shoulder. 

_ “Eat?”  _ David started to panic, but Patrick didn’t know why. Patrick didn’t know what  _ eat  _ meant. ‘Buddy’ said something back to the man, called him ‘Nick.’

“Good idea, Buddy, Mrs. Claus can work her magic and preserve them in her collection. Grab the Tupperware.”

David and Patrick tumbled together into a new container, and Patrick tried to soothe David as best he could. Patrick was on top of him, and the journey to… wherever… was long and for a short time, very, very warm. 

Then it was very,  _ very _ cold and Patrick was nervous one of them would get too brittle and crack. He’d seen it happen before and it wasn’t pretty. He kept that information to himself. Their next big event was when they were picked out of their container with a long, pointy utensil that clasped around their edges, and dipped into what looked like a  _ lot  _ of fog and also glitter? 

_ “I am  _ not _ being dipped in glitter!” _ David complained, but Patrick thought it was pretty futile, because it was clear he was  _ definitely _ being dipped in glitter. When they emerged, though, David looked the same as he always did, beautiful and crisp and perfect. 

The man  _ had _ said  _ ‘magic,’ _ hadn’t he?

They were gently placed next to each other in what appeared to be a different, and much, much nicer glass case. It was warm and cozy, and their sides were touching and David felt  _ happy _ next to him. This was nice. There was music playing, Patrick thought he heard it on their way from the glitter dip to the glass case, and he could still hear it, faintly. It was jingly, and jolly, and Patrick tried to nudge himself closer to David. 

_ “Okay, this isn’t so bad.” _ David radiated warmth and Patrick  _ loved _ him. 

_ “It’s perfect,”  _ Patrick agreed. 

**Author's Note:**

> this_is_not_nothing is fully responsible for “locked glazes.” 
> 
> Thank you good night.


End file.
